


Dogfight

by HigherMagic



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Anger, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Dog Fighting Mention, Episode Related, Getting Back Together, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Murder Kink, Power Bottom Daryl Dixon, Reunion Sex, Rickyl Writers' Group, Season 6x15 Spoilers, Spoilers, Top Rick Grimes, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:17:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: Rick feels a moment of panic when he realizes that it's been so long, he can no longer read Daryl like he used to. Or maybe they're both too broken, like pieces of a puzzle that no longer quite fit because someone shook the box a little too hard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is set directly after the latest episode so spoilers for those who haven't seen it (kind of). Basically if you know Daryl and Rick are back together and they intend to fight Negan that's all you really need to know.
> 
> This also features a heavy amount of getting-off-to-murder/revenge.
> 
> I'm sorry but Rick touched Daryl's chest for FAR TOO LONG in that cell OKAY.

"Easy, easy!" Rick grabs Daryl, shoving him back out of the cell, away from Dwight and the others. Daryl fights him every step of the way, as rabid as the dogs Rick remembers from a fighting ring he and Shane had broken up  one of his first years on the force. Those animals, poor things, had been beaten and starved to within an inch of sanity.

He can see the whites of Daryl's eyes and knows he's no better. Daryl refuses to talk about what he did in Negan's camp – the things he witnessed, the things he had to put up with. Rick hasn't had the chance to ask either. He's not sure he wants to stomach the answer.

"The fuck's gotten into you?" he demands, once he's herded Daryl back into his house and shut the door. Daryl growls at him, shoulders up, pacing nervously like he can duck past Rick and go back and ripping out Dwight's throat. "On your knees, Daryl."

Daryl stops and glares at him, chest heaving with his breaths. He bares his teeth and Rick cocks his head to one side and steps forward and Daryl takes a step back. "On your _knees_ ," he commands, and Daryl's fingers twitch by his side. He's staring at Rick like he might throw a punch.

Then, after another tense moment where Rick feels like he's staring down one of those dogs, Daryl drops in one fluid motion. His knees hit the laminated floor hard and Rick blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. The other reaches out, touching Daryl's cheek lightly as the man settles down into his normal kneeling position. It's been so long since Rick has been able to see Daryl like this. It's not the same.

It won't be the same with Negan around, hovering over them like a storm cloud ready to release its rain at any given moment.

Rick sighs and kneels down as well, cupping Daryl's face with both of his hands. Daryl is trembling, his breathing no longer heavy and even, but shaky and quiet and his eyes are bright with anger – and even though Rick knows it's not directed at him, it burns like a physical thing.

They remain like that for a long moment, Rick just holding Daryl's face, until he hears Daryl give a weak, angry sigh, and his shoulders start to slouch. "There," Rick says, and thinks back to the very first time they met, crouching together like this at eye level. How many times will they have to do this – with Rick clawing Daryl back from the edge of angry madness?

Rick licks his lips and Daryl's eyes drop to the motion, and Rick sighs again. They're close enough that he feels Daryl's exhale on his face. "He could be useful to us," Rick says lowly, and Daryl presses his lips together and Rick can hear the rumbling growl he tries to keep in his chest. "I know – I know."

"You _don't_ know," Daryl bites back, but he doesn't move away. He hasn't moved from his position on his knees. He has never hated kneeling for Rick.

Rick blinks, and sits back on his heels, letting go of Daryl's head. "You're right," he says. "I don't." He shakes his head and looks away. "I let 'em take you. Then I made you stay away."

"Had to," Daryl says, but the hard edge is still in his voice. Rick nods, but the fact that it was necessary doesn't make it any easier to stomach. "I'm gonna kill 'im, Rick. Can't stop me."

"Won't," Rick replies. "But I wanna hear what he has to say first."

Daryl scoffs and rolls his eyes. He pushes himself to his feet and Rick doesn't follow – he remains kneeling in the hallway, watching Daryl, but Daryl doesn't go to the door again. He paces to the stairs, and then back in front of Rick, and lets out a low, angry sound. Rick is reminded of Ezekiel's tiger.

"I -." Daryl stops, fists clenching, and then starts to pace again. He stops by the stairs, and then whirls on Rick and glares at him, and heaves another angry breath. "I want -."

He stops again.

"Tell me," Rick pleads, lifting his eyes to meet Daryl's. They're bright and fierce and Rick sees the first sparks of wildness in Daryl for the first time in what feels like forever. Since they came to this place. Since they lost it. "Tell me what you need. _Please_ , Daryl."

"I know why he did what he did," Daryl says. "He was protectin' his people – his _wife_. Just like -." _Just like we do. Just like_ you _do._ Rick flinches from the comparison and lowers his eyes. " _Look at me_ ," Daryl hisses, like a cobra ready to strike.

Rick lifts his gaze again.

Daryl points an accusing finger his way. "Y'ain't gonna leave me again," he says, and it's not a question but it feels like one. Still, Rick nods his head frantically. He _won't_. He'll kill anyone who tries to take Daryl away from him again. He'll kill anyone who tries to take _any_ of his family from him again. His blood burns at the thought of someone laying their hands on one of his own, on _Daryl_.

Daryl watches him for a long moment. "They didn't hit me," he murmurs. Rick blinks. "They didn't…do anythin' like that. Damn sight better than my daddy ever was. But it felt _evil_ there, you get me? Felt like…felt like I was in Hell."

Rick nods. "I know what that's like."

"Do you?" Daryl challenges.

"Yes." Daryl scoffs and shakes his head again, but he can't deny that they've both seen, and done things in this world now. Daryl can think whatever he wants – Rick won't argue with him. "Don't leave," Rick whispers, after another long moment of silence.

Daryl looks at him, eyes narrowed and appraising. Rick bears the look silently and then Daryl strides towards him, the cobra baring its fangs and lashing out, and hauls Rick to his feet. He shoves Rick against the front door hard enough that the wind gets knocked out of him.

He doesn't press the attack. He takes a step back – not enough that Rick can't reach him, but enough that the air between them feels like the frozen air of the artic and Rick shivers. Daryl's touch brands his shoulder where he shoved Rick upright.

"You want to fight me, Daryl?" he whispers.

"No," Daryl replies, but he's tensed and ready for _something_. Rick feels a moment of panic when he realizes that it's been so long, he can no longer read Daryl like he used to. Or maybe they're both too broken, like pieces of a puzzle that no longer quite fit because someone shook the box a little too hard.

Finally Daryl bares his teeth, a frustrated snarl falling from him before he turns away. "Daryl -." Rick reaches out and Daryl catches his arm, whirling around on him so quickly that Rick, his reflexes too slow, can't catch him and they both slam against the door again and then Daryl is kissing him, breathless and angry.

It's a kiss with teeth, his hands raking through Rick's hair and holding them together as they kiss. Rick grabs onto Daryl's clothing with a whimper, wincing when Daryl bites on his lower lip just to make him gasp, to give his tongue room to slip inside.

"I'm not leavin'," Daryl hisses, tugging on Rick's hair to pull them apart just enough that he can speak. "We're gonna fight, we're gonna walk right into Hell side by side, you get me?"

Rick nods, still gasping for air, and submits to another kiss when Daryl claims his mouth again. "Yes," he says, a tremor running down his spine when it feels like those puzzle pieces start clicking together – first slowly, one by one, and then tumbling altogether as the box gets emptied and they find the usual way they fit together, Daryl's chest against his, one of his legs between Rick's. "God, Daryl, I missed you so much."

Daryl hums, the sound bitter. "Your bed get cold?"

"You know that's not -."

"Shut up," Daryl says, kissing Rick again so that he can't talk. His hands run down Rick's shoulders to his hips and he holds Rick steady as he starts to grind against him, and Rick gasps as the first fissures of adrenaline turn to arousal in his blood. He lets out another helpless sound, kissing Daryl as passionately as he can as they rut together against the door.

Rick's shoulders are starting to hurt, from the weight he carries on them and the hard press of the door, when Daryl pulls away. Rick tries with all his might to stifle the desperate growl that wants to escape him. Daryl smirks at him, wild and fine, and tugs Rick away from the door.

Getting to the house was a fight, a constant push-pull of Rick backing Daryl up and Daryl lunging for his throat. Now it's a mess of friction and heat, the both of them stumbling and grinding together like animals in heat, breathless, running warm. With the promise of war Rick had felt alive again, but with Daryl finally with him again, he feels _whole_.

"Please," Rick whispers, between one bruising kiss and the next, as Daryl backs him into his bedroom door and it opens, allowing them inside. Rick turns them and kicks the door closed before Daryl yanks him down onto the mattress. They roll again until Daryl is on top, straddling Rick's hips. Rick's hands thread through Daryl's hair and Daryl growls into their kiss.

He sits up, his hands planted on Rick's heaving chest to keep him down. Rick's mouth is sore and Daryl's lips look pink and tender and Rick wants to kiss him just as desperately as he ever has. He licks his lips and closes his eyes as Daryl's cock grinds against his through their clothes.

"Look at me," Daryl commands, and Rick's eyes fly open obediently. "Don't you fuckin' dare."

"I'm sorry," Rick says, his hands tightening on Daryl's hips. His throat feels clogged, like he can hardly breathe. " _Fuck_ , Daryl, I'm so sorry."

Daryl nods, and Rick doesn't know if Daryl understands just what Rick is trying to say. He probably does, though – Daryl has always been so much better at reading Rick, at understanding him. That's one of the reasons Rick loves him so much.

"Where's the lube?" he asks.

"Same place," Rick replies. As though it would ever change.

Daryl nods again and pushes himself to his feet and Rick sits up, his hands dragging down Daryl's thighs and calf as he steps away from Rick and to the small dresser in the corner of the room. As soon as Daryl moves too far away to touch Rick's fingers curl, his heart stopping for a moment. Like if he isn't touching Daryl, someone could swoop in and take him away again.

Daryl grabs the lube bottle and returns to the mattress, the same urgency burning in his touch when he pushes Rick to lay back down. They're on their sides now, and Daryl lets the bottle drop to the sheets so that he can fist his hands in Rick's hair and his clothes and kiss him again.

"Will you have me?" Rick asks, and Daryl smiles – _finally_ , that smile, that's so small but lights Rick up from the inside like he swallowed the sun.

Daryl nods, breathing out heavily, and starts to shed his clothes. Rick follows suit. Daryl is skinnier than he remembers him being – they both are, he thinks. The Saviors have starved them almost to the point of extinction. In Alexandria they had eaten well, and gotten lazy with their food, but now they're muscle and bone.

There are bruises on Daryl's arms, even though he says he wasn't beaten at the Saviors' camp. Rick bites his lip and brushes his thumb over one, which is yellowing and small. Daryl shakes his head and Rick understands that he isn't going to explain it, but he still touches the bruise on Daryl's arm and kisses his shoulder.

"I'll let you kill every last one of them," Rick promises, and feels a shiver run through Daryl's body. His skin breaks out into goosebumps and Rick doesn’t know if it's his voice or the words. It's probably healthier not to think about it – how thirsty they all are for murder now. Just like those dogs.

"Even Dwight?" Daryl whispers.

Rick nods, and pulls back so he can see Daryl's eyes. "Maggie can have Negan," he says, and Daryl presses his lips together and shakes again. "I just want…whoever you think I should have. Point them out. They're mine."

"I promise," Daryl says, and Rick knows that that's all they need to say on the matter. He kisses Daryl softly, his hand sliding up the other man's arm and into his hair as their bodies find the normal places where they click and slot together. Daryl fits against him easily, like they were born  for it.

Daryl grabs blindly for the lube bottle and opens it, squirting some onto his fingers before he tosses it aside, and takes Rick in hand. Rick lets out an explosive breath and remembers at the last minute not to close his eyes. He leans his forehead against Daryl's, mouth slack to Daryl's kisses, as Daryl's hand wraps tight around his cock and starts to slowly stroke.

He lunges for Daryl and rolls him onto his back, and Daryl lets his cock go so that Rick can grind against him, making a mess of their stomachs – Daryl's precome mixing with the lube on Rick's cock. Rick is already breathless, body thrumming with the insane urge to rut and growl. He can't let go of Daryl's hair so he reaches with his other hand for the lube bottle and Daryl helps him hold it steady as he opens it and gets a little more on his fingers.

 _Will you have me?_ Rick wants to ask again but he can see in Daryl's eyes what the answer will be. Finally, that puzzle is locked back together, as right as anything can be with war on the horizon and the dead knocking at their door.

Daryl spreads his legs so that Rick can reach between them and Rick circles his fingers around Daryl's hole, testing how tense he is there. It's been so long, Daryl's body might have forgotten him. Daryl bends one knee and pulls his leg up to frame Rick's hip and it gives his hand a little more room, and he starts to push inside with one finger.

Daryl hisses, his hands finding and clawing at Rick's back. It burns, and it aches, and Rick wants it to consume him. He presses his finger in to the second knuckle, then pulls it out as far as he can bear, before sliding it back in again.

He's trembling just as much as Daryl is. "Every day," he growls. "Every day I thought about how you looked at me, how you've always looked at me. Like I can do anything."

"Ain't proved me wrong yet," Daryl replies, unsteadily.

Rick swallows hard enough that his throat clicks, resting his forehead against Daryl's, hardly daring to break eye contact long enough to blink. It's intimate and raw and Rick thinks this is how wildlings feel, this is what Daryl _is_. Rick will burn the world to the ground and create it anew from the ashes just to lay it at Daryl's feet.

"Its cause'a you," Rick says. Daryl's body is relaxed enough that he can add another finger and he does, twisting and scissoring them to stretch Daryl out for his cock. Daryl's breathing has gotten heavy again, his chest flushing a pretty red. His cock twitches whenever Rick sinks his fingers all the way inside. He kisses Daryl again. "Side by side, darlin', right into Hell, just like you said."

Daryl's fingers rake finely up Rick's back, leaving little red lines. Rick wishes Daryl could tear him open and soak in him, just as Daryl's body opens so nicely to Rick. Another powerful tremor runs down Rick's spine and he gasps and Daryl bites him, twisting his head and sinking his teeth into Rick's neck. It hurts, and it's a mark he won't be able to hide – even if Negan doesn't see Daryl at first, he'll know he's there by the marks on Rick's neck.

Rick closes his eyes and turns his head so that Daryl has more room, his free hand still fisted tightly in Daryl's hair. Daryl sucks at the sensitive skin of Rick's neck until it starts to ache sharply, leaving a bruise to match those that were put on Daryl's arms.

Rick works in a third finger, the heat in him skyrocketing as they both start to sweat. He licks the taste from Daryl's collarbone and pulls his hand away. "How do you want me?" he asks, because whatever Daryl asks of him, he'll give.

In answer, Daryl wraps a warm hand around Rick's cock, stroking it once, and then he shifts in place just enough that Rick's cock sinks between his thighs and catches on his hole. Rick leans up on his lube-slick hand, fisted in the sheets, so that they can get the angle right the first time.

"Look at me," Daryl says, and Rick's eyes snap to his face from where they were, focused on the sight of Daryl's hand wrapped around his cock, guiding him into Daryl's body. Daryl's cheeks are red with heat and arousal, his eyes shining.

He holds Rick like that, in stasis. Rick feels like a thoroughbred at the starting gate, rearing for the sprint. Finally, Daryl nods as though to himself, and breaks the stare so that he makes sure Rick is at the angle he wants him, before he lets go of Rick's cock and Rick has the freedom to start sinking inside.

Daryl's body is hot and slick, so unbearably tight that Rick worries it might be hurting him – but pain is no stranger to either of them and Daryl seems in no mood to humor Rick's tentative side. He spreads his legs out a little more and lifts his hips and Rick groans, collapsing over Daryl and into him as he slowly pushes his cock all the way into Daryl's body. Daryl's ass clenches tightly around him, adjusting to the long-absent stretch.

When Rick's thighs hit the back of Daryl's they both let out explosive breaths. Rick stays as still as he can but the urge to rut and fuck is biting at the back of his neck like an attacking animal. "Move, Rick," Daryl orders, the words coming out soft, and Rick is helpless but to obey them.

He pulls back and thrusts in, just as slowly, until the instinctive clench of Daryl's ass seems to relax into something a little more welcoming. He does it again, trembling with restraint. His control snaps the second Daryl lets out a sound – this rough, needy thing. It tugs at everything that makes Rick a man, demands that he sink into his lover and ruin them both from the inside out.

He tightens his fingers in Daryl's hair and kisses him, as Daryl lifts his legs to wrap around Rick's hips and Rick can start to move in earnest. Every muscle in him is rabid to collide and collapse into Daryl, everything in his head swimming with the need to consume and claim even though the question of who Daryl kneels for was never in question.

Daryl holds him as Rick moves, helpless to anything but the savage need to show Daryl that he's here, _he's here_ , he's not going anywhere, he _loves_ him. One of Daryl's hands claws at the back of Rick's neck where he's sensitive, the other raking more patterns nail marks onto Rick's back. They both let out wrecked, growling moans, lost in the finality and the rightness of being back together, finally, _finally._

Rick feels his orgasm coming at him like a speeding train and he whimpers, sweaty forehead rubbing against Daryl's hair. "Daryl," he growls, and hopes Daryl knows what he can't find the breath in him to say.

Daryl growls right back at him, licking up the sweat on his neck and Rick hisses when the bruise there tingles and aches. "Keep goin'," he demands, and the hand on Rick's back moves to grab his own cock, stroking at a counterpoint to Rick's thrusts.

Rick is shaking, with exertion and emotion and _relief_. It feels so fucking good to have Daryl close to him again he thinks he might scream with it. He finally finds the strength to let go of Daryl's hair and runs a hand up Daryl's chest instead, loosely cupping his throat like he knows Daryl likes. Daryl's breath hitches and Rick feels his ass clench tightly around his cock.

"Easy," Daryl murmurs, and Rick wonders how he can have his voice be so damn steady.

Rick grabs him, any part of Daryl he can hold. "'M not -."

He pulls out abruptly, just on the knife edge, and wraps a hand around the base of his cock to stop himself coming. Daryl lets out an impatient growl, reaching for him, and Rick moves back just enough that he can take Daryl in hand, batting Daryl's own hand away and stroking his cock himself. Daryl moans, his eyelids fluttering as Rick twists his hand at the head of his cock, then makes a tight circle back down. He does it again, and then leans down to suck the head of Daryl's cock into his mouth when he sees Daryl's thighs start to tighten and tremble.

" _Fuck_ , Rick," Daryl breathes, rubbing his hand through Rick's hair. Rick hums, sucking Daryl a little deeper into his mouth, and Daryl lets out another low, wanton noise. "M'gonna come."

Rick hums again, letting his eyes close as Daryl's hand abruptly goes tight, his stomach tenses and sinks in, and he lets out a sharp little breath. The first shot of Daryl's come tastes bitter on his tongue but Rick swallows it all, his hand slowing down as he hears Daryl's breathing turn ragged. He keeps sucking, lapping at the head of Daryl's cock until Daryl tugs on his hair and pulls him up for a kiss.

He knows his mouth tastes like Daryl when Daryl slides his tongue inside. His heart is hammering under Rick's hand. Rick grinds his cock against Daryl's thighs, smearing the lube on them. A primal, proud part of him glows in satisfaction at having his lower so thoroughly marked.

Daryl smirks at him, like he knows what Rick is thinking, and then he pushes at Rick's shoulders and forces him onto his back. He climbs over Rick, straddling his thighs, and reaches back to grab Rick's cock and angle it back inside of him.

Rick lets out a weak, half-hearted protest. "Don't gotta -."

"Shut up," Daryl says, and then Rick can't speak anymore because he feels Daryl's body parting for him once again, hot and wet and so fucking tight it makes his vision grey out along the edges for a moment. Daryl sighs, this deep and satisfied thing, and starts to slowly ride Rick's cock as Rick's hands find his hips. Rick tucks his feet so that he can get good leverage to thrust and help Daryl move.

"Thought about you, too," Daryl whispers, like a confession. Rick bites his lip and tries to focus on keeping his eyes open. Daryl has him caught, stuck like two dogs in a stare down. The first one to break gets their throat ripped out. "Thought about you stormin' the place, comin' for me like you did for Woodbury."

Rick whines, digging his nails into Daryl's hips. He tries to sit up but Daryl slams him back down with another forceful glare. "Thought about… _shit_." Daryl winces, his cock twitching where it's resting against Rick's stomach as Rick's cock hits that sweet spot inside of him. Daryl lets out a breathless gasp, tilting his head back, moving with more fervor. "Thought about Dwight, fuckin' mid-gloat towerin' over me, and you just comin' up behind him and plantin' one 'tween his fuckin' _teeth_."

He would have, too. He would have ripped that place apart if he had the manpower and the guns. Daryl knows this. He _must._

"I'm gonna," he promises, as sacred as a wedding vow. Daryl's cock twitches again and Rick wraps one hand around it, stroking slowly even though Daryl keeps giving little hisses of discomfort, too sensitive to get hard again but too aroused to stop. "When it's all done, if he's still breathin', I'll walk him right up to you and make him kneel for you."

" _Fuck_ ," Daryl breathes, his body tightening up around Rick. Rick had calmed down enough to last more than a minute once Daryl let him back inside but he can feel the orgasm clawing its way up his spine again, gnawing at his throat. He wants to _come_. His cock is starting to harden in Rick's hand and Rick lifts his palm to his mouth, licking it before returning it to Daryl's cock and stroking in earnest. " _God_ , Rick -."

"Soon as I'm done with him, he's all yours, darlin'," Rick says, and then he shivers and his breath catches. "Gonna come, Daryl."

" _Yes_ ," Daryl says, as needy as a starving man when confronted with a fine buffet. He goes still, letting Rick thrust up into his sensitive body, his cock leaking helplessly into Rick's hand. He's hard again, high on the promise of blood and revenge.

Rick surges up and rolls them both, slamming his cock deep into Daryl's body as hard as he can, like he needs to fuck the bloodlust from both of them – but this won't do the trick. He knows that. All he can do is sate the fighting dog and give him food and the promise of another victory.

He kisses Daryl hard, snarling low as he feels his orgasm starting to build. He wouldn't be able to stop if he tried. Daryl is goading him on, with breathless little pleas of 'Yes' and 'Rick' and 'Fucking _do it_ '.

"Can you come again?" Rick asks, soaked to the core with sweat and heat and Daryl nods, frantically, stroking his cock with one hand, the other fisted tightly in Rick's hair. Rick groans, sliding one hand up to Daryl's throat and squeezing gently. "Come for me, darlin'. Wanna feel you."

"God, Rick, _fuck_ -." Daryl's low cries send Rick tumbling over the edge of orgasm. His vision goes white as he slams inside of Daryl one more time, emptying what feels like his entire being into the other man as Daryl strokes himself to his second orgasm. It's small but Rick feels the tremors in Daryl's body reverberate through his entire soul. He pulls out slowly, both of them wincing, but otherwise doesn't move.

Daryl hauls him down for another kiss, biting his lower lip so that he can breathe in Rick's desperate gasps. "Easy, easy," Daryl murmurs. He knows how disoriented and weak Rick gets after an orgasm that powerful. It's a need they haven't sated in far too long – with Daryl, he can revel in the wild, the ravenous. He pets his hands down Daryl's heaving, sweaty flanks and breathes in the scent of him, marked and covered in Rick's scent as he should be. He loves how he can smell himself on Daryl's skin now – how if he has his way, Daryl's scent will never be otherwise.

They move until they're lying on their sides, facing each other. The room is far too hot now but the air outside it hotter and neither of them seem inclined to open a window or turn on the fan. Rick clings to Daryl like a safety ring in a stormy ocean, shaking hard.

Daryl kisses him again while they're still breathless. "I'm holdin' ya to every word," he says, and Rick huffs a quiet laugh, managing a small smile.

"You'll get your chance," he promises. Daryl smiles back at him, sated and lax, the angry brightness in his eyes finally dulled to that gorgeous, calm stormy blue. "Soon."

Daryl nods. "Soon."


End file.
